


Crayon'd

by andthelightbulbclicks



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends!Everlark, F/M, Orange, Peeta's Paint Box, Tumblr: promptsinpanem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3197192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthelightbulbclicks/pseuds/andthelightbulbclicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started out with a brown paper bag, a forty-eight pack of crayons, and a challenge. For every birthday Katniss and Peeta celebrate, the other finds a gift that matches the color of the crayon chosen. Every year, there's two less crayons to choose. And every birthday, each continues to amaze the other in some way new. Written for Prompts in Panem, Peeta's Paint Box: Orange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Yellow Orange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So this is the first time I'm delving into THG fandom :) I wrote this story for Prompts in Panem, Peeta's Paint Box, Day 2: Orange. It had originally been planned out as a one shot with small vignettes, but it kind of just expanded to way more than that. So this first chapter was what I submitted for PiP, but the rest of the story will be continued here. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Please read, review, and enjoy!
> 
> I'd also like to give a special thanks to the moderators over at PiP for all of their hard work and dedication!

Peeta – 5 – Yellow Orange

He doesn't want to go.

He wants to stay in the bakery, where he can help Daddy while Graham and Rye are at school. That's what he's always done. He's been Daddy's big helper while his older brothers go to school all day.

That's always been Peeta's favorite time of the day.

Peeta's and Daddy's time in the bakery.

And Daddy  _promised_  Peeta he would learn how to make cookies this year.

The thing is, Daddy also promised Mama that he would sign Peeta up for kindergarten this year. And Mama always gets her way.

So, Peeta shuffles his feet, barely picking them up off the ground as he trudges into the bakery's kitchen, hoping that maybe if his daddy sees how badly he doesn't want to go, Peeta can stay home and learn how to make cookies instead.

And forget about kindergarten.

But as he looks up to see the excitement on Daddy's face when he sees Peeta in his first day of school clothes, something starts to flutter in his stomach. Maybe it's butterflies. He's always hated that feeling.

"Look how handsome you look Peet! Aren't you excited?" His daddy asks with more than enough enthusiasm for the both of them. Peeta doesn't want to make him sad to know he doesn't want to go to school, so he gives Daddy a big toothy grin and a thumbs up.

If possible, his father's smile widens. "Did you eat breakfast and brush your teeth already?"

Peeta nods his head as his daddy walks over to him and gives him a brown paper bag holding his lunch, just like the ones Peeta always used to help Daddy make for Graham and Rye. "Alrighty kiddo, I'm gonna walk you to the school today, but then your brothers will take you the rest of the year, okay?"

Again, he nods his head, afraid he might start crying if he tries to speak. And Graham and Rye can't see him cry because he doesn't want to go to school. They would never leave him alone. They'd call him a baby.

So as his daddy stretches out his hand, Peeta takes it without hesitation and they head out of the back door of the bakery, grabbing his backpack off the ground on the way. They walk the first five minutes in silence, swinging hands between them, before Peeta notices something strange. "Where's Graham and Rye?"

His father only smiles. "Oh, I sent them ahead of us so we can take our time. There'll be more than enough time for rushing. They just want to go see their friends anyways."

Peeta thinks this over. Aside from his brothers and his daddy, he doesn't really know any other people, or kids. Sure, there's Delly. But she stays in her parents' shop just as much as Peeta stays in the bakery. That's what Peeta thinks would help.

A friend.

A best friend that he can play with in kindergarten so it won't be so scary. Just one. He only needs one. That way, they can always play together.

The school comes into view as they turn the corner, and to Peeta, it seems kind of like the zoo they visited over the summer. People everywhere. Some kids who look his age are crying by their parents. Older kids, like Graham and Rye, are talking loudly to one another outside the school. Peeta feels his legs turn to stone, stopping him in his place.

He doesn't want to be here.

He wants to be at the bakery, where it's quiet and not full of crazy kids.

His father stops right beside him, still holding onto his hand. "Hey buddy, come on. You're going to have so much fun!"

The panic must have shown through in Peeta's eyes, because his daddy's face softens as he kneels down next to him. "Peeta, you're going to be fine."

"But- but I want to stay with you," Peeta whispers, staring at the concrete beneath his feet.

"I know buddy, but trust me, get through the first day and you'll be upset when you have to come home later."

Peeta doesn't think that's even possible, but he gives his father a small smile. It's not very convincing. His father is just about to say something else when something catches his attention. Someone. Peeta turns his head a little to see a girl in a red dress just letting go of her own daddy's hand and walking toward the teacher standing by a group of kids that must have been Peeta's age. Some of the ones he had seen crying are over there now too. But Peeta's attention stays with the girl. Her hair is brown, the same color as her daddy's, and has two braids.

Peeta only turns back toward his daddy when he gives his hand a little shake. "Do you see that little girl? The one in the red dress?"

"Yeah?"

"Her mommy was my best friend," his father reveals like it's a big, big secret. Peeta's eyes widen. "Maybe her daughter can be your best friend too."

Peeta can feel the big smile stretch across his face. Yes, he would like that. He wants the girl with the two braids and the red dress to be his friend to play with in kindergarten. The one friend he needs to be happy here.

"Her name is Katniss, Peeta," his father adds at seeing his son's reaction. "Have fun, okay?"

Peeta nods his head again, but his attention is already focused on the girl again. Katniss. Before Peeta can realize what he's doing, he gives his daddy a big hug and is running over by the teacher and the rest of the kindergartners. And Katniss.

He walks right up to her, standing to her right.

"Hi!" Peeta says cheerily, excited to talk to her.

Katniss whips her head in his direction and gives him a funny look. "Hi."

But Peeta keeps on smiling. Because this is going to be his best friend. Why shouldn't he smile? "I'm Peeta."

"I'm Katniss," she says with a small smile. Peeta beams at her.

"Will you be–"

Peeta is cut off by the sound of a whistle. He looks over at the teacher again and sees her heading into the school. He turns back to see Katniss is going into the school ahead of him, not even looking back.

Peeta frowns a little, but heads toward the school too.

He swears that he'll ask her as soon as he talks to her again.

* * *

That is, until it's May 7, and he still hasn't asked her.

Months go by, but Peeta never gathers that courage that he had on that first day in September. The courage to even talk to her.

But Daddy was right. Kindergarten is great. Peeta has lots of friends and he even likes his crazy teacher, Miss Trinket, with her crazy outfits and even crazier hair.

But Peeta still doesn't have a best friend.

Sure, now he's  _really_ friends with Delly, and he met Thresh and Finnick. But he still doesn't have a best friend. He never seems to have a chance, or that courage, to ask Katniss. He hasn't spoken a word to her since the first day of school and he thinks she's ignoring him. And that's not nice.

Especially when Miss Trinket has them sit right next to each other in the classroom. Her desk is bumped up to the right side of Peeta's desk.

"What are you doing?"

Peeta's attention tears away from the drawing he's coloring at his desk and turns toward that voice that hasn't spoken to him since the first day of school. "Hi Katniss," he says, trying to hold in his excitement.

She gives him the same small smile. "Hi Peeta." She doesn't say anything else, just stares at him, waiting for an answer to her question.

Peeta sits there confused for a second before going into a full enthusiastic explanation about the drawing he's coloring with his new pack of crayons.

And it's not just any pack of crayons.

It's a forty-eight pack of crayons. With lots and lots and lots of colors.

Nobody else in kindergarten has that many different colors.

Peeta's just so excited to be talking to her, he doesn't realize when her nose scrunches up. He stops halfway through his explanation of the flower he's coloring with his light orange crayon and dark orange crayon and the orange crayon that kind of looks red. He loves the color orange. "What's wrong?"

Her nose just scrunches up more. "Why don't you just color it orange?"

Peeta can feel his own nose scrunch up, but not from confusion. "Why would I do that? Not all flowers are that color orange. And it's boring."

"It's not boring! It's, it's partical! I mean, practical!" She argues while her chin juts out.

"Prac-ti-cal?" Peeta asks while trying out the word. "What does that mean?"

Katniss looks him straight in the eyes when she says, "It means it's dumb to have that many crayons. You only need eight."

Peeta looks away as he feels his face start to get hot. This girl was going to be his best friend! And she's calling his crayons dumb!

He's not going to allow that though. He swept the bakery floors for months. He always made sure the cookie displays were filled in the bakery. Every nickel his daddy gave him Peeta saved.

For that forty-eight pack of crayons.

"It's not dumb!" Peeta all but squeaks, "There's lots of different types of orange! And it's my favorite color!"

Katniss laughs. Peeta feels silly.

"Peeta, don't you think it's weird?" She reaches over his drawing for his pack of crayons, and before Peeta can stop her, she's pulled out one of his many pink crayons. "Sal-mon. What's a sal-mon?"

Peeta snatches the crayon out of Katniss's hand, carefully placing it back in his box. He always makes sure they go pack in the right spot. "It's a pink! Can't you see that!?"

Now Katniss looks at him even more confused than before. So Peeta pulls every crayon out of his very organized box that looks orange and lays it out in front of them. He turns the paper he was coloring on over and takes the crayons, drawing a line across the page with each one of them. He looks up to see Katniss staring at the lines.

He smiles at Katniss triumphantly. "What color are these lines?"

"Orange."

"Wrong!" Peeta shouts, earning a 'quiet please!' from Miss Trinket, who's sitting at her desk in the front of the room. Katniss looks at him, and she looks, really, really mad.

"Peeta, those lines are orange!"

Peeta's smile only widens. "Yeah, but they're different. You can't name them all orange when they look different!"

Katniss's scowl only deepens. "Yeah, but they're just crayon colors. There's nothing else in the world that's the color," she snatches one of the orange crayons and looks at the name, "scar-let! Only the crayon."

Peeta takes that crayon from her too and looks at the markings, but they don't make sense to him. "You can read?" He asks with awe in his voice. He realizes now she had read the pink crayon name too.

Katniss's scowl rises to a smile at Peeta's realization. For the first time, Peeta actually sees her teeth when she smiles. She has a space between her two big teeth. "Yeah, my daddy taught me," she says proudly. "But that doesn't matter! What matters is that I'm right and you're wrong."

Now it's Peeta's turn to scowl. "You're not right!" Again, a 'quiet please Mr. Mellark!' from Miss Trinket. He lowers his voice, "There's lots of things that are these colors!" But Peeta has to wonder, what else did he see anywhere before that was the color scar-let?

Katniss and Peeta glare at each other for a few moments before Katniss's eyes brighten. "I've got an idea. My birthday's tomorrow. I'm going to be five," she announces as she straightens in her seat, seemingly proving she's older and better.

"So?" Peeta says confidently, "I'm already five." And he straightens in his seat as well. Katniss scrunches her nose again and glares at him.

Peeta sees her hand move again, and he shoots his hand out to grab his orange crayons just as Katniss's does the same. He saves them all. All but one. "Give it back!" Peeta yells, attracting the attention of Miss Trinket for a third time. She stands up from her desk and walks toward the back of the classroom where Peeta and Katniss should be coloring their pictures.

"Mr. Mellark, what is the problem here?" She asks in her crazy voice.

"I–," but before Peeta can protest or explain, Katniss chimes in.

"Miss Trinket, what does this say? Yell-ow what? What's the second word?" Katniss asks as she hands that orange crayon over to Miss Trinket. Miss Trinket turns the crayon to look at the name.

"It says yellow orange, sweetie. Is that what this was about?"

"Yes ma'am," Katniss replies innocently. Peeta's eyes widen comically as Miss Trinket smiles and heads back to her desk.

"Yellow orange," Katniss says, turning to face Peeta, "find me something yellow orange for my birthday tomorrow."

"What?" Peeta asks as Katniss brings his attention back to her and away from Miss Trinket's desk.

Katniss only smirks at him. "If you can find me something yellow orange for my birthday, then you're right and I'm wrong." She places that yellow orange crayon right back in his crayon box in the exact spot he had taken it from. "But I'm right," she adds.

Peeta glares at her. "I can do it."

"No you can't."

"Wanna bet?"

"We just did."

They continue to glare at one another until Miss Trinket calls all of the kindergartners to get their lunches from their cubbies. Peeta looks away first, already scrambling for ideas on where to find something yellow orange by tomorrow so he can prove his best friend wrong.

Huh, he still considers her his best friend.

And she doesn't even know.

* * *

The end of the school day comes and Peeta still has nothing. He walks slower than usual on the way home from school, trailing far behind Graham and Rye. Graham, being the oldest, runs back to hurry Peeta along.

"Dude, you're moving like a snail, come on!" Graham complains while taking a hold of Peeta's hand and dragging him to catch up with Rye.

"Can you show me something that is yellow orange?" Peeta asks both of his brothers once all three are walking together again. They both look at him with identical faces of confusion.

Rye, being the know-it-all second grader, speaks first, "Yellow orange? Who doesn't know what yellow orange looks like?"

Peeta doesn't want to tell his brothers about his bet with Katniss, so he instead asks again, "What is something in real life that is yellow orange?" Neither seems to have an answer.

They all keep walking, but Graham seems to think thoughtfully. They're just walking down the sidewalk that leads to the back entrance to the bakery when Graham snaps his fingers together with an 'aha!' Peeta waits expectantly, bouncing on his feet with excitement. "You have an idea!?"

Graham nods enthusiastically. "I've got something better than an idea," he announces with the authority of a fifth grader. "I've got proof." Rye and Peeta stare at their brother, one with anticipation, the other with boredom.

"Whatever, I don't care," Rye yawns as he walks past Graham into the bakery. Peeta still bounces on his feet, watching his brother hopefully.

"You got something that can show me exactly what color yellow orange is, Peet?" Graham asks as he holds the door open for Peeta. Peeta nods excitedly as he reaches into his backpack for his beloved pack of crayons, pulling out the yellow orange one and a piece of paper from his notebook. He spreads the paper onto the nearest counter and scribbles enthusiastically across the page with the crayon, looking up at his big brother eagerly. Graham stares at it for a moment before walking toward one of the cabinets full of ingredients.

And out he pulls food coloring and a mixing spoon.

Then he walks over to the fridge and pulls out a small bowl full of white icing.

Graham puts both on the counter and stares at Peeta's yellow orange scribbles again. And then he starts putting drops of food coloring into the bowl and stirring. Peeta can't see from where he is, so he drags one of the stools over and hops onto it, staring into the bowl that now has orange icing.

But it's too dark.

And Peeta announces that observation out loud. Graham scoffs, but continues stirring. "Then you add the coloring, I'll keep stirring."

So Peeta, having never touched the food coloring before, starts adding more drops of yellow to the orange icing, and as Graham stirs, he can see it.

He can actually see it.

Yellow orange icing.

Peeta is so happy, he jumps up and nearly flies right off the stool he balances on.

"That's it! That's it Graham! That's it!"

Graham stops his stirring and starts to laugh, "Jeez Peet, okay, okay! Don't fall over, Ma will freak out." But Graham's attention is only half on Peeta's safety. The other half is looking back between the crayon scribbles and the icing in the bowl. "Wow Peet, they're identical. Now what are ya gonna do with it?"

Hmm. Peeta hadn't gotten that far. He shrugs his shoulders and looks at Graham expectantly. Graham scrunches his eyebrows together in thought before saying, "We can make a cupcake?"

And Peeta throws his arms around his brother's neck because of course, of course a cupcake would work! And giving a yellow orange cupcake to Katniss on her birthday would be  _perfect_. He would be right. And Katniss would get a birthday cupcake.

Graham is still laughing as he untangles himself from Peeta's arms. He looks around the bakery's kitchen for a second before flashing Peeta with a beaming smile. "Hang on a sec," he states as he rushes over to the cooling racks and pulls out one of the trays that's there.

More specifically, the cupcake tray that is there with a fresh batch of vanilla cupcakes.

Peeta is all but ready to explode with excitement. Graham grabs one cupcake from the rack and a plastic spatula, making his way back over to Peeta. "Okay," Graham says, "now we ice your cupcake."

 _No_ , Peeta thinks,  _now we ice Katniss's cupcake_.

And they do, together.

Peeta stumbles a bit at first, but Graham helps him the whole time until he can do it on his own.

"You're a natural, Peet."

And afterwards, Graham gives Peeta a small box to wrap it in. Once that is done, Peeta reaches into his backpack for another piece of paper. He grabs his yellow orange crayon that still lays on the counter and asks Graham six questions, all starting with the words 'how do you spell.'

* * *

The next day, Peeta walks with Graham and Rye to school. Well, he tries to walk with them, but they're moving so  _slow_.

"Peet! Slow down, will ya?" Rye shouts from down the street. But Peeta doesn't care. He's being careful crossing the streets all by himself. He looks left. And then right. And then left again, just like Daddy taught him.

He holds on to his bakery box with both hands, making sure Katniss's yellow orange cupcake stays perfect.

And he's not going to let his slowpoke brothers keep him from getting to Miss Trinket's class before Katniss to surprise her with this perfect cupcake.

So while his brothers keep complaining about how Peeta needs to slow down, Peeta only goes faster, and faster, and faster.

Finally, the school comes into view, looking far less like the zoo it had been on the first day. Peeta likes coming here now. He continues to think how much more he will like it after his surprise for Katniss. Peeta hustles into the school, never looking back at his brothers. He walks into Miss Trinket's classroom and puts his backpack and lunch in his cubby, only placing Katniss' cupcake down for a second. She isn't here yet.

He doesn't want anyone to step on Katniss's perfect cupcake before she even gets to see it.

Once he's done, he makes his way over to his desk, the cupcake box in one hand, his forty-eight pack of crayons in the other. But he's not sure what to do now. Put the box on Katniss's desk? Hide it until she comes?

He decides to place it right on top of her desk. That way, she won't think he forgot it's her birthday.

Realizing he left his notebook in his backpack, he races over there to grab it, only turning away from the cupcake for a second. And when he turns back, his view of the cupcake his blocked by a girl standing in front of it.

A girl with brown hair. And two braids.

Peeta's face breaks out into a smile, and he rushes over to her, unable to hide his delight.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATNISS!" He shouts as he makes his way to her side.

But she doesn't turn her head to look at him. She just keeps looking at the box.

Peeta doesn't understand why she won't look at him, so he reaches in front of her and picks up the box. He watches Katniss's eyes follow the box, but they don't look at him.

"Uh," Peeta squeaks, feeling his face get really, really warm, "I made you a cupcake for your birthday," he tries to explain while opening the box and pulling out the cupcake he's so proud of. He holds it out in front of Katniss's face, almost touching her nose. She takes it from him, and her eyebrows do this funny thing where they go closer together. Peeta thinks maybe it's better to not say anything.

So he looks at Katniss.

And looks.

And looks.

And she looks at her cupcake.

And looks.

And looks.

"It's yellow orange," she whispers in amazement. "You made me a yellow orange cupcake?"

Peeta's smile returns in full force, "Yeah! I found you something yellow orange for your birthday!" Then he puts his hands on his hips proudly. "Told ya I could do it."

He wins the bet.

And Katniss gets a birthday cupcake.

He thought maybe she would be mad to lose, but the smile she gives Peeta matches the one on his own face. "You got me a cupcake for my birthday. That was really, really, super nice Peeta."

"You're not mad that you lost?"

"Kinda. But I knew you could find it. Find the yellow orange. You're smart like that," she tells him as she places the cupcake back in the bakery box carefully, making sure none of the yellow orange icing gets smeared. Peeta can feel his warm face get even hotter.

"Yeah, but you're smart, too," he states. "And," he mumbles quietly, "you can read, so you're smarter."

Katniss turns her head back to him. "No one else can read yet either Peeta, you can do it," she comments. She stays quiet for a second before asking, "Do you think I could do it?"

"What, read?"

"No silly! That I could find something that looks like a crayon color?"

Peeta thinks for a moment. Could she do it?  _Of course_ , he thinks.

But he doesn't want to make it too easy for her. "I've got an idea. My birthday is October 11. I'm going to be six."

Katniss's eyebrows do that funny thing again. "So?"

"Hold on," Peeta tells her as he runs over to his cubby for the third time, grabbing his brown bagged lunch and placing its contents in the bottom of his backpack, thinking his idea is super, super cool. And smart. He runs back over to where Katniss stands by their desks, watching him curiously. She doesn't say anything, but Peeta watches as her mouth drops open while Peeta takes his treasured pack of crayons and dumps all of them into the paper bag.

"What did you do that for!?" She shrieks. "They were all put so nice in there!"

Peeta just gives her the same toothy grin he gave his father when his daddy revealed the secret about Katniss's mommy.

He holds out the bag with two hands in front of her, just in front of her nose. The same way he had presented her cupcake.

"Stick your hand in the bag and take a crayon," Peeta commands with as much seriousness as he can muster.

Katniss's head tilts to the side as she smirks at him, but she does as she's asked. Her hand dips into the paper bag and pulls out a crayon that Peeta thinks looks like purple.

A light purple, though.

He watches as Katniss rolls the crayon in her hand, trying to understand the markings that make up its name. "T– T–, ugh!" She huffs in frustration.

Peeta picks up the crayon out of her palm and looks at the markings. "T-H-I-S-T-L-E. What's that word?" Katniss shrugs her shoulders.

"It's 'thistle' darling!" Miss Trinket announces as she makes her way up behind them. "T-H-I-S-T-L-E spells the word 'thistle.'" And as quickly as she popped up from behind them, she makes her way to her desk in the front.

Peeta gives her a triumphant smile. Katniss scowls.

"You chose thistle!"

"No way!" Katniss squeals. "I don't want that one! I don't even know what that is! I want another," she states as she reaches for the bag full of crayons in Peeta's hand. But Peeta whips it away from her.

"Nuh-uh. You can't break the rules!"

"What rules!?"

"The rules that say you can't pick another crayon," Peeta says matter-of-factly, even though he just made up the rule moments beforehand.

Katniss huffs again and sticks out her lower lip. "Please?"

"Nope," Peeta smiles, "If you can find me something the color of that crayon," Peeta holds up the crayon still in his other hand, "then you prove you can do it too."

"And if I can't?"

"I know you can."

Katniss smiles at Peeta, teeth and all. He likes how her front teeth have a space. It looks cool.

"October 11?" She sticks out her small hand.

Peeta takes it, surprised at how soft it feels compared to his daddy's. "October 11."

And they shake on it.

After that, Miss Trinket starts calling for everyone to start getting ready to 'learn, learn, learn!' Peeta hadn't even realized that all the other kindergartners are in the room. Katniss heads to her cubby to put her cupcake away for later. He watches her, and then remembers.

His note!

He hurries over to his own cubby, for the fourth time, and pulls out the piece of notebook paper he had written on last night. He double checks to make sure it's still smooth with no wrinkles, then rushes over to Katniss at her cubby.

She turns around in surprise.

He hands her the note.

She opens it up.

He looks at the first sentence he is ever able to actually read.

She looks up, beaming at him.

He knows her answer from that smile.

On the piece of lined paper, in Peeta's handwriting, written with a yellow orange crayon, are six words, one question:

_Will you be my best friend?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is going to end up being a total of eight chapters, so keep an eye out for the next chapter soon! Again, thanks for reading :)


	2. Thistle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have been beyond patient while waiting for this update, you all deserve cupcakes of every color of the rainbow made personally by Peeta Mellark himself. And sprinkles. And every other cupcake topping on the planet. My sincerest apologies for the wait!

Katniss – 5 – Thistle

“It was a one-eyed, one-horned, Flyin' _Plum_ People Eater, One-eyed, one-horned Flyin' _Violet_ People Eater, One-eyed, one-horned Flyin' _Lav-en-der_ People Eater, Sure looked strange to me!” Peeta sings over and over again as they sit out on the playground drawing with Miss Trinket’s chalk. He’s been going through every purple-ish colored crayon he can think of.

“Peeeeeetaaaaa,” Katniss whines, “Those aren’t the right words!” And then tosses a piece of chalk at his head for good measure.

When she taught Peeta the song she had learned in music class last week, Katniss thought it was just fun to sing. And Peeta had agreed. But, “It _is_ fun Katniss, but why do they only use the color purple!? There’s so many different _types_ of purple!” He had argued with her, and went on to look for all of the purple crayons that they kept in the paper bag in his backpack, just to prove his point.

They spent that day after school at her house having her daddy help them read every single one of them.

So, now she has to sing it the _normal_ way in music class, but when she’s singing it at lunch or on the playground with Peeta, he always does it _his_ way. Which is the _wrong_ way.

“No Peeta! The music teacher says we have to sing it with the word ‘purple!’” She tells him for the zillionth time, because yesterday, when the rest of the kids in music class were singing ‘purple,’ she sang ‘plum’, and the teacher said she was being silly.

Because singing about a purple monster eating people _isn’t_ silly.

Peeta just keeps humming the song, which, is a little bit better, but now she keeps singing the words in her head to his humming, and using ‘plum,’ ‘violet,’ and ‘lavender’ instead of ‘purple.’ She glares at him, but he only looks a little bit sorry for messing her up. Then, his face transforms with excitement almost instantly, remembering something. “Oh! Wait Katniss, I’ve got one more!” He says eagerly as Miss Trinket blows the whistle, signaling recess is over.

Katniss rolls her eyes and starts picking up all of the chalk while Peeta goes on. “It was a one-eyed, one-horned, Flyin' _THISTLE_ People Eater! Cause, you know, thistle’s a light purple!” He explains as he helps her pick up the rest of the chalk.

Peeta’s been doing that a lot lately. Using the word ‘thistle’ when they’re at school or over each other’s houses.

At lunch, the sprinkles Mr. Mellark puts on the cookie they split look _just like_ her thistle crayon.

At recess, he uses thistle chalk to draw a puppy.

At her house, some of her mommy’s flowers she grows on the porch are actually thistles.

Thistle, thistle, _thistle_. She thinks he’s worried that she forgot his birthday is coming up, which, she hasn’t. Peeta’s her _best_ friend. Of course she knows when his birthday is. She has it marked on the calendar in her room. But in May, when she picked the thistle crayon, she thought it would be easy to find something that color to give to him for his birthday. Except, it wasn’t, isn’t.

Because now summer has passed, they’re in first grade, it’s October, and Peeta’s birthday is in two days. And she still doesn’t have a thistle present for him. But she _has_ to prove that she can find a present the same color as one of his crayons.

Peeta got her a present the day before her birthday, and it was the _best_. She’s had months to find the perfect gift, and she can’t find a single thing that matches the crayon she always keeps in her backpack, or in her pocket, or on the little table near her bed.

They share a giant cookie every day for lunch, they play with the chalk at recess a lot, and the flowers on her porch are a little scary looking and poke her fingers. She can’t use _anything_ she’s seen that’s thistle, plus, Peeta’s the one that has found them all.

Peeta can find all of these thistle things anywhere he looks, and she just, _can’t_.

But he looks at her, and he’s so happy, that she just gives him a big smile and grabs his hand so they can run to where the rest of the 1st graders are lined up by Miss Trinket.

“My daddy made us a giant sugar cookie to share today,” he reveals as they head back to the classroom.

And yeah, he’s her _best friend_.

* * *

Normally after school, Peeta will walk home with her and her dad and come over her house to play, or Katniss will walk home with him, Graham, and Rye and they’ll play around in the bakery or up in his room. Sometimes, Mr. Mellark lets them help decorate (and then eat) the cookies and cupcakes he makes. Peeta’s always look nicer than hers.

She blames his art class.

But today, Katniss’s daddy asked her to go shopping with him at The Hob right after school, so she waves goodbye to Peeta at the end of the day and walks over to where her dad is waiting for her.

It’s weird, not walking to one of their houses with Peeta, but they’ll do it tomorrow.

Her dad waves to Peeta, who happily waves back immediately, and then they turn to start walking back home. Once there, she takes her crayon out of her backpack and stuffs it in her pocket.

She goes to say hi to her mom in the living room quickly, who’s holding a sleeping Prim in her arms. Katniss whispers her hello, places a soft kiss on baby Prim’s head, and then rushes to the door where her daddy is waiting for her. She watches as he smiles at Mom, who also has a similar smile of her own.

“Ready to go, sweetie?”

She nods her head and takes his outstretched hand, heading out to their car in the driveway.

At the store, Katniss is told not to wander too far away. “This store is pretty big Katniss, so stay where I can see you, okay?” Basically, that means wherever he goes, she goes.

The store _is_ big, and isn’t like the bakery, where the Mellark’s only sell food and drinks, or the store that Delly’s parents work at, where only shoes are sold.

The Hob sells _everything_.

Her dad starts walking toward a certain area of the store, so she follows, taking his big hand in her small one as they go. Katniss knows what he’s looking for as soon as they’re in the aisle.

Wood.

Her dad likes to make little animals and other things out of pieces of wood he gets here. He buys big chunks of wood that he makes into prettier things with the special knives he uses that she is ‘absolutely, under no circumstances allowed to _ever_ touch.’

He calls it a ‘hobby.’

She just likes that he made her a katniss flower out of wood that sits on her nightstand. It’s even painted. Prim’s supposed to get one that’s a primrose flower for her room now that she doesn’t sleep in Mommy and Daddy’s room all of the time.

He finds what he’s looking for fast and holds onto it with one hand while he takes hers again with the other. As they walk toward where he has to pay, Katniss continues looking down the different aisles and all of the different things in each one.

Fishing stuff, cooking stuff, sports stuff, art stuff.

Katniss halts in her steps, pulling her dad back where they’re hands are joined.

As they pass the art aisle, Katniss’s eyes catch on something that just happens to look a lot like purple.

A light purple.

A _thistle_ kind of purple.

“Wait daddy!” She yells excitedly as she lets go of his hand and bolts down the aisle, running to where she sees _the_ color.

Down in the middle of the art aisle, amongst so many things, are packs of pencils of all different colors. Sure, there’s red and yellow and purple, but there’s also different _shades_ of the colors. A word Peeta had taught her after learning it in art class.

And there, right where the other shades of purple are, are pencils that look just like the crayon she’s been carrying around for months. Hoping, praying that something that color would show up at some point.

She grabs the pack of pencils and feels a smile so big grace her face that her cheeks hurt.

But she needs to check. Needs to be absolutely, one hundred percent sure that this is the color that she needs. So she grabs the crayon out of her pocket to hold it next to the pack of pencils.

And that’s it. That’s _it_!

“Well would you look at that,” her dad says from behind her. It sounds like he’s smiling, but she doesn’t look away to see for herself. She can’t believe that the pencils she’s holding are _thistle_. “If I’m not mistaken, those pencils there look a lot like the color tistle.”

Katniss giggles at that, both from the joy she’s feeling and her dad saying the word wrong. “It’s ‘thistle,’ daddy,” she tells him as she turns to look at him. He knows about the color for Peeta’s gift, but hadn’t had any idea about where to find something thistle when she had asked.

“Well,” her father responds with a laugh, “if you ask me, I think that’s as close to _thistle_ as you’re going to get. Who would have thought you’d find them in the store that has _everything_ ,” he says with a wink. And then, after a moment, “Actually honey, they look like regular pencils, it won’t be that color if Peeta were to use them. Is that okay?”

“Yep! They’re perfect!” So perfect, she’s afraid that if she looks away, they’ll disappear, or be a different color when she looks back.

But they don’t. They’re still there in her hands, and they’re still thistle. Still perfect. “He can draw with them first, and then color in the pictures afterwards.” Because Peeta loves art and loves to draw and these pencils will do just that.

Her father nods his head in agreement, “Well if that’s the case, how about making them a little more personal?” He asks.

She looks up at him and feels her nose scrunch at his question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I can put his name on them if you want? I’ll use one of my special knives that’ll be small enough to use on the pencils.”

Katniss can do nothing more than barrel into her daddy’s legs to give him the tightest hug she possibly can.

And with that, Katniss gets Peeta’s present for his sixth birthday, thistle pencils with the words ‘Peeta Mellark’ neatly etched into each one of them.

* * *

Katniss and Peeta were super excited to find out that Miss Trinket was going to stay as their teacher for first grade. Miss Trinket’s a little weird, but they like her. There’s not enough students for two classes, so it’s the same class as kindergarten, but now they learn first grade things.

It’s great, because she and Peeta are in the same class again, and Miss Trinket always puts their desks next to each other.

It’s not so great because of Cato Baxter.

Once a week, everyone in the class gets to pick a special class that they want to go to for a little while in the morning before recess and lunch, like music, art, or gym. On Monday’s, Katniss goes to her music class with the other students who chose music. On Wednesday’s, Peeta goes to art class.

That also means that on Wednesday’s, Katniss has to sit next to Cato and his friend Marvel without Peeta at their table of four desks.

And, to put it nicely, they’re really big meanies.

Friday’s are the best, when they’re both at gym and she and Peeta have the area to themselves.

But today’s Wednesday, and Peeta’s not here.

“Katniss and Peeta sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Cato whispers loud enough for her and Marvel to hear, but Miss Trinket doesn’t as she explains the directions for the worksheet they’re doing.

“Stop it Cato, that song is dumb,” Katnis whispers back. She tries to ignore them, she really, _really_ does, but Cato always sings it when Peeta’s not around, and it’s just not nice.

And he just keeps doing it. And then Marvel joins in. And Peeta’s not here. And Miss Trinket doesn’t hear them because she’s across the room helping someone.

So she really, _really_ tries to ignore them and works on spelling the words on the worksheet. And it works, until Cato stops singing and starts asking her dumb questions.

“Hey Katniss, did you give your cooties to Peeta?” Marvel snickers as she looks up to glare at them.

“There’s no such thing as cooties,” she tells him matter-of-factly. She knows. She asked her daddy the first time Cato had asked her that question.

But he only laughs at her, which makes her face feel super warm, and then says, “Peeta definitely has them, that’s what happens when you’re friends with a _giiiiirl_.” And then him and Marvel are _both_ laughing at her and her face feels like it’s on fire.

“ _Stop it_ , he’s my best friend,” she says as seriously as she possibly can. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

But they _keep_ laughing, and Cato’s saying, “You’re so stupid Katniss, a boy and girl can’t be best friends,” and Marvel starts singing “Circle, circle. Dot, dot. Now you got your cootie shot,” and he’s drawing circles and dots on himself and Cato and then on Peeta’s desk, and she feels tears about to fall, and–

“ _SHUT UP CATO!_ ” She shouts at them, and then her hand flies to her mouth as her wide eyes find Miss Trinket staring at her from across the room. Everyone’s looking at her and she hates Cato Baxter more than anything in the world.

“ _Miss_ _Everdeen_ ,” she scolds, “we _do not_ speak like that in first grade.”

“But–” Katniss tries to argue as Cato and Marvel smirk at her.

Miss Trinket holds her hand up to stop her. “No ‘buts’ darling, the first graders in my class have _manners_. No recess for you today, you will stand by me outside until lunchtime.”

Katniss doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even get to try and explain what was happening. She closes her mouth, gives Cato and Marvel the meanest look she can muster up, and tries with all of her might to keep the tears where they’re at in her eyes. Everyone’s still staring at her and she hates them too right now, so she keeps her head down and starts working on the worksheet again through blurry vision.

The only reason Katniss knows Peeta has returned from art class moments before recess is because he asks her what they’re going to do once they’re outside.

She ignores him.

“Katniss?” He asks again. “Do you want to play with the chalk again?”

She lifts her head to give him the same look she had given Cato and Marvel after she got in trouble.

He doesn’t ask her again, he just looks scared and confused as she refuses to speak to him. She doesn’t even know why she’s mad at Peeta too. He wasn’t even there. But, if he was, Cato and Marvel wouldn’t have been so mean to her.

And she wouldn’t have gotten in trouble.

Peeta says her name again as she looks back down at her paper. “What’s wrong?” He asks worriedly.

“She lost all of her recess time and has to stand by Miss Trinket,” Cato tells him with a smile.

She refuses to lift her head. Refuses to see the surprise on his face or let the tears she’s been trying so hard to hold back fall.

So when Miss Trinket calls everyone to get in line for recess, she stands up without a word and walks away from Peeta. And when everyone gets outside, she stands next to Miss Trinket without even being reminded.

Peeta shuffles his feet up to them as everyone runs around the playground and asks, “Miss Trinket, can I stand here too?”

To which she replies, “Oh no Peeta, Katniss is in trouble, you’re not. You go play with your friends.” And he looks at Katniss with such sadness in his face. She hopes he can feel the anger in hers.

He can go play with his friends. She’s not his friend anymore.

He goes over by the jungle gym where Finn and Thresh are playing, but he doesn’t go climb it like they are. She pretends not to see how he watches her stand by Miss Trinkett for the entire recess, looking like his feelings are hurt.

Because why should he be hurt? She’s the one who got in trouble because Cato was making fun of Peeta and her. She’s the one who was embarrassed in the front of the class. Not him.

When the whistle is blown, signaling recess is over and to line up for lunch, it’s the loudest she’s ever heard it. She’s never this close to Miss Trinket when it’s blown.

Katniss is the first one in line, first back to the classroom to grab her lunch, and first back in line to go to the lunch room.

Peeta sneaks in as the second person in line and whispers, “My daddy made us a chocolate chunk cookie today, your favorite.”

But she’s still angry.

She turns around to look him in the eyes and says, “Go share it with your _friends_ , cause we’re not anymore.”

Then, she turns back around and follows Miss Trinket to the lunch room and sits down the other end of the table by herself.

* * *

“Where’s Peeta? I thought he was coming over our house today,” is the first thing her father asks her when she walks up to him after school.

She shrugs her shoulders and tries to ignore that awful feeling in her tummy when she says, “I don’t know, he went home with Graham and Rye.”

Her dad gives her a funny look, and then looks back to where the rest of the students are waiting for their parents to come get them. “Katniss, are you sure?” And when she nods her head, he asks, “Did something happen in school today?”

To that, she shakes her head, and then takes his hand and tugs him in the direction of their house.

They walk home without either of them talking, and she can feel her dad look down at her every few moments until they’re at their driveway and she runs up into the house so he won’t ask her anymore questions.

If she pretends nothing happened, then maybe mommy won’t notice and daddy won’t say anything else.

She walks into her room as soon as she drops her backpack to the ground by the front door and is met with looking at her crayon sitting on the table by her bed, right next to the katniss flower her dad had made and Peeta’s present, all the pencils bunched up and tied together with a bow her mom had helped tie the night before.

For a moment, she thinks about breaking the crayon.

And then that awful feeling in her stomach gets stronger and she can’t believe that she had even thought about ruining one of Peeta’s crayons for even a second.

He _trusted_ her with it.

She flops onto her bed, head turned away from her nightstand, and tries her very best to ignore the burning in her eyes.

Just as the feeling in her stomach grows to the point that she thinks she might throw up, she hears the house phone ring in the kitchen and she just knows it can’t be anything good. She waits a few moments before going to investigate.

She tip toes past Prim’s room where she and Mom are, and makes her way to outside the kitchen where her dad is talking on the phone.

“All right Gabe, I’ll talk to her,” he says as he catches sight of Katniss standing by the entrance. She feels her shoulders slump and the tears return at the look her father gives her. “I’ll give you a call once I get this side of it, kay?” He pauses to listen to the other person, nods his head, and then hangs up and places the phone on the kitchen counter.

Her father walks over to where she refuses to move, and bends down onto his knees so that his face is right in front of hers. She stares at her feet until she can feel his fingers lift her chin to meet his face.

“Do you know who that was on the phone?” He asks.

Katniss nods her head and mumbles, “Mr. Mellark,” as tears start falling down her cheeks and she hiccups without meaning to.

“Oh hey, sweetie, come here,” he says as he gathers her up in his arms and holds onto her tightly, rocking them back and forth. “Katniss, what in the world happened at school? Gab– Mr. Mellark said Peeta walked home by himself today because Graham and Rye were told that Peeta was coming with us. He came home sobbing that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore.”

And knowing that Katniss made Peeta cry makes everything that much worse, so she starts crying harder than she ever remembers doing, and tries to explain through bleary eyes and a snotty nose about the mean songs Cato and Marvel were singing, how they called her stupid, how she lost her recess and Peeta didn’t play because she couldn’t play, how she told him they weren’t friends anymore…

“And Cato,” she sobs into her daddy’s neck, “he said a girl and boy can’t be best friends, and I know Peeta has other friends that are boys that can be his best friend, and I just _hate_ Cato Baxter, Daddy, I really do.”

He keeps rocking her back and forth until she finally stops crying, and then picks her up and takes her to the bathroom to get her tissues and a cold cloth to pat her face with. Then he places her back on his lap as he sits on the edge of the tub and continues to rock her.

Once she finally calms down, she asks in a quiet voice, “Daddy, does Peeta hate me?”

She can feel him take in a breath. “Oh no, Katniss, Peeta loves you very much,” and then he adds, “and I don’t want to hear that word coming from you again. It’s not a very nice word, and I know you don’t feel that strongly about anyone, even mean boys in your class.”

She looks up to see his silver eyes shining, like he’s as sad as she is. “But will he still be my best friend? I wasn’t nice to him at all,” she explains as she realizes Peeta may never want to talk to her again.

What would she do then? _Choose_ to stand by Miss Trinket at recess?

“Does it matter that I’m a girl and he’s a boy?”

Her father continues to sway them as he asks, “Do you know who my best friend is, Sweetie?”

She shakes her head, because really, how is she supposed to know that? “I didn’t know you when you were five,” she tries to explain to him.

At this, he chuckles. “No,” he laughs again, “that’s true. But my best friend when I was five is different than the best friend I have now.”

That feeling in Katniss’s stomach returns with his words. “You mean, he _won’t_ be my best friend anymore?” She begins to panic, “I’ll have to find a new one? And _he’ll_ get a new one?!” She shrieks with worry.

He father shushes her, and looks like he’s trying not to smile, which really isn’t very nice. “Katniss, hold on, let me finish,” he says as he turns her so she is completely listening to him. “Yes, my best friend when I was younger is different than my best friend now,” Katniss opens her mouth to argue, “ _but_ ,” he continues, “that doesn’t mean that’ll happen to you and Peeta. You two can be together for forever if that’s what you both want.”

Katniss can feel herself relax a little at this. “So, who _is_ your best friend?” She asks curiously.

Her dad looks both ways as if someone is listening to their conversation, and then leans in closely to whisper secretively, “Your mommy.”

Her eyes widen at this. “But she’s a girl,” she tells him, just in case he forgot.

Again, he chuckles. “Oh, I know. And yet, she’s still my best friend.” He looks at her seriously when he says, “There is absolutely nothing wrong with having a girl best friend if you’re a boy, or a boy best friend if you’re a girl. Sometimes, it doesn’t last forever, which is okay. And sometimes it does, which is okay too.”

“And you get married if it lasts forever, like you and Mommy?” She questions.

“Uh, not necessarily,” her father explains, “that _could_ happen, but not always. You can be married, but you don’t have to be. There’s no rules to having a best friend, it’s whatever works best.”

 _Okay,_ she thinks, _there’s no rules to having a best friend._

She wraps her arms around his neck after realizing that she and Peeta can be best friends, if he still wants to be. “I love you Daddy,” she whispers into is hair. She hopes he knows it means ‘thank you’ too.

He wraps her up in a bear hug and holds her tight as he whispers, “I love you too, Sweetheart. Just make things right with Peeta tomorrow, okay? Make it a good birthday for him.”

She nods her head again and then hops off his lap to head back to her room where the crayon and wrapped pencils are waiting for her.

Peeta had written a note with her cupcake for her birthday, so she goes and gets a piece of paper from the computer printer, tip toeing past Prim’s room again, and runs into her room to write her own note.

Or well, _draw_ her own note.

* * *

The next day, it’s Peeta’s birthday.

Katniss packs up his gift and card, and she can feel the weight of them in her backpack as her father nudges her towards the entrance of the school. “Have a good day,” he says as he bends down to kiss her on the forehead, “and tell Peeta I said ‘happy birthday.’”

She takes the deepest breath she ever has before and marches her way into the school, determined to make it to the classroom without being distracted. She needs to make things right with Peeta, and she needs to do it _now_.

She’s just outside the hallway when someone pulls on her hand and halts her in her steps. She whirls around to see Peeta letting go of her hand and looking like he was just crying. “Peeta?” She asks, because she was supposed to find him in the cubbies and fix everything, and now she’s doesn’t know what to do.

“Katniss, I’m so, so, so, _so_ sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never do it again,” he tells her as his blue eyes start getting watery.

She doesn’t know what to say, so she throws her arms around him, his backpack making it a little harder, and holds on tight for a moment before letting go. “No Peeta, I’m sorry,” she says when she pulls away, “Cato and Marvel were being mean, and then I was mean to you, and it was wrong. You’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world,” she says sincerely and hopes that he feels the same.

And though he looked like he was just about to cry, the smile he gives her when she says that makes her smile just as brightly. He nods his head seriously when he says, “Good, cause you’re my best friend too. Forever and ever.”

With that, her smile widens until she remembers what else she had to tell him. “And Happy Birthday!” She yells as she waves her hands in the air, and Peeta positively beams.

“You remembered,” he says with awe.

Katniss scoffs, “Of course I remembered, here, I have your gift in my bag,” she says as she slides her bag off of her back.

But Peeta shakes his head. “The only gift I want from you is to promise you’ll always be my best friend. And,” he adds, “that you’ll share my daddy’s cookies with me at lunch. They're too big to eat on my own.”

Katniss looks up from her bag, and she just can’t help the way she charges into him for another hug, one that he returns this time. “Deal.”

But as he pulls away, he says, “No, you need to say it out loud.”

So she does. “Peeta Mellark, I promise to always be your best friend. And to eat cookies with you at lunch.” At his nod and smile, she also says, “But you’re going to take my present too. I worked really hard to find you something that was the color thistle,” she tells him sternly.

He giggles, “Okay, I can do that.” She can see the delight in his eyes, and she can feel the excitement in her bones. She wants him to love his gift so much, because it’s the color of her crayon, and she was actually able to do it. She _did it_.

“Close your eyes,” she orders as she pulls the pencils and card out of the backpack. He rolls his eyes, but does it anyways.

“Now stick out your hand.” He does, and she places the bundled pencils in his hand. “Now open your eyes,” she says.

And when he does, he looks down at his gift and whispers in wonder, “thistle pencils.”

She watches as he traces the side of one of them, and then pauses as his fingers trace over the letters her dad had written into them. He pulls one of the pencils out of the bundle to inspect it closer, and she stares at his fingers as they gently trace over his name.

When he looks up, she does too. “You got me thistle pencils with my _name_ on them?” At her nod, he’s the one to wrap his arms around her in a hug, whispering “thank you, thank you, thank you,” into her ear.

She laughs as they let go for the third time, “Peeta, they’re just pencils,” she says, because she can feel her cheeks getting warm, but not like they did yesterday. She’s happy.

Peeta’s her best friend again and she’s so very happy.

“They’re not just pencils, they’re _thistle_ pencils. Thistle pencils with my _name_ on them.” She smiles as he can’t help but look at his name on them again. “I _knew_ you could do it, Katniss,” he says with pride.

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she looks down at her hands to find that she’s still holding his card. She flings it out in front of him so that he takes it. “I made you a card too, with the thistle crayon obviously. It’s a picture,” she explains shyly as he opens it.

Peeta’s cheeks must hurt from the smiling he’s doing, but he doesn’t seem to care. He gazes at the picture she drew of him, with his curly hair, holding his pencils. She even wrote his name super tiny on every one of them. Then, above the picture of him, she had used the crayon to draw a banner that says _Happy 6 th Birthday from Your Best Friend_.

“You should take art class,” he tells her when he tears his eyes away from the purple drawing.

And knowing they’re best friends, and that he loves his gift, and that she really _was_ able to find a gift the color of a crayon, she knows that he’s going to be her best friend forever. She wants them to be just like her mommy and daddy.

So she goes and presses her lips super quickly to his cheek, and stands back like she was a half second before that.

When he looks at her with his cheeks starting to turn pink, she says, “I’m going to marry you someday Peeta Mellark.”

And then she grabs his hand and walks into the classroom so they can put their backpacks in their cubbies. She reaches into his backpack and grabs the brown paper bag that's always in there.

“Now,” she holds the bag open in between them, absolutely giddy with happiness, “pick a crayon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who’s ready for an age jump?
> 
> Also, I revamped my writing tumblr. There’s not much there, but you can [come say hi](http://andthelightbulbclicks.tumblr.com/).


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